India-Jean Louwe

by Lovers' Tussle

  Tienna felt herself being swept away on this current he had formed. He remained so docile and yet was so very compelling. She could not escape. She didn’t want to. Her soul was being claimed in such leisurely degrees, like the patient erosion of a soil bed against a gentle stream. Every throbbing need within her was being stoked with trained, compassionate ease. Her passion was patiently caressed, coaxed, and prodded until the yearning threatened to overpower her. Within her, each part of her body sang with blissful need, a slow build to an all-encompassing crescendo. He was dangerous. He was a thief, and he was stealing her soul, bit by painstaking, delightful bit. She surrendered.

  The growl, a fierce, primitive rage, cut into her head. Tienna jerked back. By the bewildered look on Aiden’s face she knew he had heard it, too. Tumultuous lashes, savage and vehement, whipped across her mind like hot branding irons of red, glowing fire. She stumbled back from the relentless fury beating at her. “Roth.” His name slipped from her numbed lips. Her eyes searched the surrounding darkness, desperate for escape. But she could not see him. He was there, in her head, pounding at her with his wild fever, his relentless anger. She could not run from him. She could not hide. But she turned and fled nonetheless.

  She felt the presence behind her immediately as she flew past the open courtyard and into the deserted street. Her soft satin footsteps and hammering heart did nothing to drone out the sound of the threat. She knew this was not Aiden. The presence was dark and malevolent—Roth. God, what was she to do?

  There was nothing else to do. She darted into the nearest darkened street, divesting her clothes as she went. Using only partial mind control, her dress flew off. Her petticoats tangled around her legs before finally joining the discarded gown on the dirty ground. Finally losing all control of her panicked senses, she simply burst forth from the remnants, a fully formed wolf. Her paws barely touched the ground as she soared, leaving in her wake a bundle of palettes, stockings, and a ravaged whale-bone corset. The wind rushed past her back-pressed ears as she put her nose down and raced her heart out. She had to get away. But the presence behind only grew stronger.

  The scratching of her claws against the cobblestones and its eerie echoes sent a shiver through her. Would he sink his claws into her first, or his vicious teeth? More than once she felt the hot breath at her neck, the whispered kiss of death. But she dared not look. She dared not stop. She ran until her lungs burned and the steam from her muzzle brought tears to her eyes. And still it was not enough. Vengeance would not be cheated. Roth would not be denied.

  She knew she had made a fatal error the moment she took the wild bend in the path. The alley was dark and ominous before her. Her claws dug in, her nostrils flared, sniffing the air for a way out. There was none. Up ahead was a solid wall. She was trapped. Tienna turned toward the entrance. She would have to fight.

  Like a dark demon, Roth’s presence filled the entrance, cutting off the dim lighting of the streetlamp. Tienna swallowed down her fear, but she clung to the desperation in her. There was nothing more ruthless than a cornered dog, and she was willing to tear her way to freedom if need be. She stood as tall as her short legs would allow, daring the enemy to advance. Unfortunately, he did not disappoint.

  His eyes glowed unholy amber as he stepped forward. His movement was liquid, smooth. He stalked. The growl emitted was low but no less menacing. Tienna trembled as she watched the corded muscles of his back bunch, the hair of his nape stand on agitated ends. The glorious mane of gray and black was more sinfully dark yet hypnotizing in its majestic sheen. His teeth flashed an unrelenting, contradictory pure white against the malevolence in his dark face. The smile of a predator was anything but warm.

  Tienna ducked down just as he leapt. By the way the wolf landed on her, she knew he had not allowed his full weight to fall. Avoiding her crushing was his mistake, one she chose to use to her advantage. She sidled out, pressing her belly flat against the cold surface of the ground and wiggling her fanny until she smelt freedom. The sweet taste of fresh air greeted her face and then her whole body as she finally pulled free.

  Her smaller, more compact size allowed her greater speed and maneuverability. Another advantage she did not waste time in using. Before Roth was fully turned, she was once again on her fleet feet, ready to make another courageous dash for her life. She got three leaps until she was stopped.

  He had not jumped on her. He had not moved at all. His voice, clear and compelling, cut into her mind. “Wait.” It was hard and unbending, but that was not what had sprung the stone wall that suddenly halted her escape and held her immobile. It was the faint quiver of pain and desperation that he had let be known. It sliced a path straight through her heart and rendered her motionless. He was hurt by what she’d done with Aiden, and his voice did nothing to conceal his torment.

  She turned slowly, unwilling to face him but unable to do anything else. She concealed nothing from her own voice of her own desperation, her confusion. “He is my mate.”

  “You are also mine.” He shifted. In place of the wolf now stood the man she had only thus far spied from a distance. Up close he was so much taller, muscular, so much more man. He possessed the talent of clothing himself, a talent that so many others had learnt over this past century. But while he was fully clothed, he remained disheveled, feral.

  This was no gentleman who stood before her. His hair was not carefully groomed and powdered or wigged. It was wild and tousled. His feet were not encased in stockings or shiny, buckled shoes. The length of his trousers was dark, molding to his muscles from boots to slim hips, and his shirt a snowy white in contrast to it. No neck cloth held the collar stiff and safely shut. The opening of his shirt revealed his dark chest and a tempting glimpse of curling hair. “Come here.”

  “Tienna.” That was all she could form in her head. It was so clouded, envisioning her hand upon that enticing scrap of flesh showing at his throat, her legs wrapped around the powerful thighs and bulging fly. She wanted to hear her name fall from his lips.

  “Come to me, Tienna.”

  Powerless. That was all she felt. While Aiden had taken the time in spinning a masterful web to coyly trap her, this man simply engulfed her whole. Her breath left her in hot, shallow pants as she moved toward him, shifting into her human form simultaneously. Her mind was much too flustered to produce anything beyond a simple shift to cover her heated nude figure.

  She entered his arms, searching his dark, fathomless eyes for some clue. She didn’t know what to do, what to expect. Jagged edges of his sinful, black hair swept rakishly over his brows, leaving his eyes shadowed and mysterious. Tienna curled her fingers into her palms, her nails digging into her flesh painfully. She wanted to reach out and smooth his hair back, soothe the hard, stubborn lines etched in his clenched jaw. He was man, and yet his beast was in full presence.

  Time stood perfectly still. Tienna expected he would kiss her any moment now, and the wait was torture. But he was not a predictable man and didn’t conform to any other’s wants but his own. He grabbed her upper arms, sinking his fingers in her tender flesh. In one smooth move he twisted her around until she was backed up against the wall.

  Tienna had barely inhaled after the surprised gasp had robbed her of her precious breath when his mouth was on hers, feeding her his. Her hands were lifted high, held imprisoned within his as he took from her what he wished. His tongue delved deep, hot and demanding. His lips pressed against hers, bruising, punishing her. And she loved it. She wanted more.

  She whimpered and mewled her pleasure in his mouth, writhing against his hard length pressed flush against her. Her tender back scraped mercilessly into coarse wall behind her. There was no coaxing, no subtle, gentle seduction. This man was all heat and fire, and he was incinerating her to ashes with every painful heartbeat and labored breath. He feasted on her, hungry and ravenous. The beast within her responded to his animalistic, savage command, lusting and salivating for its unleashing, its awakening. Tienna could do nothing but submit her
body into his keeping, to do with it as he pleased, even to his devouring or, as she feared, her detriment.

  He panted hard, breathing fiery air over her face as he rained kisses over her cheek and moved down the length of her throat. Tienna stretched, arching her back against the unrelenting wall, giving him the full access that he demanded. Her heart skipped a beat as he licked at the pulse point at the base of her throat. His teeth scraped against the tender beating, burning the skin with the sharp edges of his razor teeth. He was eating her alive, consuming her, and there was nothing she wanted more.

  “Roth, please.” She struggled to release her hands, but it obviously did not suit him. He held her suspended with one hand and allowed his free one to explore her body. The thin shift was no barrier against the heat of his palms that singed her skin. With the first touch on her breast, her hips thrust forward in reflex. Her weeping pussy encountered his engorged center, but he was so much more different than her. His cock was ruthlessly hard and pressed mercilessly into her soft, womanly cradle. She whimpered helplessly as her legs spread of their own accord and straddled his offering wantonly.

  Tienna could not understand the urgency strumming through her. She needed, wanted something with such desperation she could have wept, pleaded. It was too fast, too ferocious, and she couldn’t control her body. His hand found its way to her heated pussy, and she groaned. His large hand cupping her hot softness was too much for her to bear. She pushed into the devil’s embrace, begging his deeper touch.

  But just as soon as he’d begun to part the delicate folds, he suddenly stilled. He remained so motionless Tienna could not even feel his breath anymore, or feel his heartbeat. She followed his gaze to the entrance and had to stifle her gasp.

  Aiden stood likewise etched in stone, watching them, but Tienna could feel his anger. It crashed into her like waves of anguish and fury. Her hands dropped limply to her sides as they were abruptly released. Tienna could not handle more. She had been seduced by gentle caresses in one moment, only to hurt a man. Then she had been ravished by a beast only to hurt the other. What did she want? Who? Gentle or brutal? Everything collided within her, making her sway dizzily. She had to get away. She needed time to think. Who was this strumpet who leapt from one man’s arms and straight into another’s? What had she turned into? She could not even answer that question.

  Struggling, she pushed her way past Roth. The comfort of her beast took form. Her thick, red fur cloaked the blush of her shame as she dashed past Aiden. The confusion and hurt on his face could not be denied even as he continued to stare at Roth with murder in his eyes. As Tienna slinked away like a coward, she mused that perhaps they would do the deed she had prodded them toward and end this night with the decision being settled by a vicious strike of death. But as long and hard as she pondered and worried about the matter, she could not decide who she wished to emerge victorious. She cried her woes and torment at the lonely moon. The sound was dull and unsatisfactorily muted without even an echo to ease its loneliness. Who would she welcome with open arms on the morrow? Aiden the gentle, who stole away her soul with calm, confident strokes, or Roth the ruthless, who swallowed her whole, making her burst into a ball of flames with a single flick of his cocky finger?

  Chapter 3:

  The Conflict

  Aiden tugged at his neck cloth as he leaned back in his sturdy chair. The day had passed with him being about as productive as a lazy feline, more asleep than alive, but unlike a slumbering cat, he was hardly rested. His morning appointment at the House of Lords had been canceled in lieu of more dire matters. The time had come to assemble his pack and prepare for a possible war. The meeting had gone rather well, considering the vast majority of his band simply wanted to rip out Roth’s throat. And he had found himself to be the single soul marking the minority that opposed the idea. Roth was his brother, and if there was anyone going to rip out his throat, it would have to be him.

  But even as he felt the presence of his pack members close at hand, guarding his premises and their leader with their lives, he had been unable to relax and had subsequently spent the day doing nearly nothing. He had been simply waiting like an animal in hibernation or perhaps one in a baited trap. Having never being one who enjoyed living on the edge, he raged at the impotence he now faced. His safe, secure world had taken a rather forceful shake. And he had no choice but to either bend with these changes or use his might to bend them to his will.

  The shadows in his study grew longer until darkness obliterated them completely. Everything turned into a single shadowing entity. None of his staff would dare enter his private domain to flame the wicks of the lamps. He had a preference for the dark, and they knew that as well as he. But on more than one occasion through the daylight hours he found himself wondering if he himself even knew his preferences. Lady Tienna was certainly not the choice he would have consciously made had he set foot into a ballroom seeking a wife.

  From the flocks that made their débuts, he had always been sure he would have chosen someone more demure, someone biddable to his command. Hadn’t he once envisioned being husband to a wife who spent her days meddling in her own affairs while leaving only the nights free for his meddling with her? Time and time again he had tried to picture Lady Tienna in that role, and every single time he had to admit he would have to mold her character to that position. It was not that she was incapable in any way. She was simply too forthright and would never idle her days away with mending and household accounts and running. No. He strongly suspected she was just the type of woman who would want to accompany him on his business trips, have her voice heard at every meeting, and even prevail over his position on the parliamentary board had females been allowed.

  Oddly enough, while the idea did not settle easily in his craw, it did not overly distress him, either. In fact the more he considered it, the more it had begun to appeal to him. He had been a fool believing he would have been content living a separate life from his spouse. What Lady Tienna had done was effectively point out his desires which, as difficult as it was to admit, differed vastly from what he’d initially believed. No simpering, docile miss would suffice. Not after having met her. He wanted her by his side, feisty and spirited. And he would stop at nothing to have her.

  A corner between the bookshelf and the wall that was bathed in more stygian darkness than the black of his breeches shifted slightly. Aiden tensed. The hair on his nape prickled. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  Roth stepped out from the shadow. “Then I am glad to oblige.” He cocked his head to the side as though listening intently. “Call off your watchdogs. I promise not to bite.”

  “They will not interfere.” But even as Aiden said those words aloud, he sent out a silent command for his pack to stand at bay in the frequency understood uniquely by their brethren. Roth was his brother and thus possessed a more personal channel in which to communicate. Damn him for that. There was never a time he had wished for a brother less. “What great enlightenment do you bring for me?” He knew his mocking was immature, but this was no friendly chitchat. It was best to set the tone right from the start.

  “You were in an almighty hurry to leave last night. Otherwise we could have settled the matter immediately and started this day afresh.” One of his dark brows arched tauntingly. “At least one of us would have at any rate.” He gestured in the general direction of the large bay windows facing the quiet street. “You are quick to call your pack. Are you so insecure you seek extra reinforcement?”

  “This affects my pack as much as it does me. You seek to steal from us our queen.” Aiden was considering reversing his command. His pack could do with this cretin whatever pleased them.

  “The same can be said for my own pack.”

  “Bah! You speak of that band of robbers and cutthroats? They wouldn’t even know what to do with a lady let alone treat one with the respect that is her due.”

  “Title maketh not the man. They will respect her as my wife and second-in-command of the pack.” />
  “How very presumptuous of you.” He stiffened as Roth drew closer. “Let us settle this the only way we can. We fight to the death.”

  “Is the thought of murder the only thing that breeds beneath that polished surface of gentlemanly manners? It is like a mold of rotted fungi, and if you are not careful, you will find yourself sinking to the low depths like the rest of us.”

  “I could never be like you.” Aiden’s voice was disdainful. “There is still honor in accepting death, however, and I fully intend on delivering it on this occasion.”

  “Honor? To gain something based solely on greed?”

  “Need.” Sighing heavily, Aiden admitted, “I need her.”

  “I will not fight you, brother. But I will not hand her over, either.”

  Aiden was too used to having his way. If things were ever going to settle into the pattern he wished, he would have to see to it personally. “Then you will die.”

  “And you will live a coward, for to face me head-on means your death.”

  The insult cut in deep enough to penetrate every corner of his mind. Aiden sensed his fellow wolves stir in agitation. Consciously, he sought to appease them by calming the wildness that had seized hold of him. God, Roth had the ability to drive a saint to murder. But saint or not, if blood was shed here, right now, it would be on his hands. He reinforced the command to his pack. “Stand down, my brothers.”

  Roth must have sensed the shift in the air. It was suddenly charged with tension. He lowered his own voice. “I knew the moment you put your hands on her. It is not something I ever want to feel again.”